


Hiding In Plain Sight

by ElfyDwarf



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Biting, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Pining, clothed humping, lovesick fools, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:12:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3726610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfyDwarf/pseuds/ElfyDwarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo is something of a marvel in the court of King Thorin, an enigma and glorified hero of the Battle that has Dwarves of all kinds wanting a closer look, maybe a little more of him than Bilbo truly understands. Being courted blindly is not something Bilbo would have thought of happening, but it is happening nonetheless, by males and females in Erebor, and humans he has never even met, much to the annoyance and outright fury of Thorin, King of The Unstable Formation Of Words And Actions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiding In Plain Sight

**Author's Note:**

> I was given another prompt and oh my god it ran away with me! Seriously, I have absolutely NO IDEA where this came from. It was supposed to be short, hot and dirty but... I can't understand what I've done. No, not at all but i think it's alright. 
> 
> -Bilbo being courted unknowingly  
> -Thorin hating it and sabotaging it all because he wants the hobbit, of course, but is an idiot and royally messes up each time he tries to court Bilbo unawares  
> -The Company setting up bets  
> \- Thorin is an emotional wreck: cue outrage when he should be accepting or apologetic, frustrated with his own inability to speak his heart, acts like an arse and is an utter sap when he lets his guard down.  
> -Sexy times once Thorin actually manages to work his brain
> 
> There you go. I managed that much AHAHAHAHAHaaaa enjoy!!!! It's flippin' ENORMOUS and romantic and dirty and...and I am sorry because I swear I never inteNDED TO WRITE A NOVEL!.... any mistakes are my own, feel free to point out any spelling mistakes and/or grammar errors and I'll skip to it! I am aware that i capitalized Dwarf/Dwarves but not hobbit, probably 'cause i see Dwarves as powerful and hobbits as squishy, sneaky assassins. No harm intended, no money made, nothing real, fictional characters doing fictional things. 
> 
> (PS, apologies but THANKS SO MUCH for all the love on my other fics, I weep with the power of it you gorgeous beasts!)

 

 

Bilbo sat down heavily on a stone bench in the cavernous hall outside the counsel halls in Erebor. He'd been in there for the best part of the day and had almost cheered when Balin called for a recess, his feet and shins aching with having to stand for long. Whenever Thorin stood, the court too had to stand, out of respect for the King, though none of them felt overly respectful after having stood for the last three hours.

 

“Master Baggins? Secondary advisor to his Majesty?” the low timbre shook Bilbo from his thoughtless gazing and he stood quickly, bowing lightly to a very broad Dwarf who had a smile like Balin, soft and warm despite the fantastic amount of jewellery sitting in his black beard.

 

“At your service-” he caught himself and leant forward slightly, urging the Dwarf to reveal his identity rather than gawp at him like some kind of trophy.

 

“Ah, yes!” the Dwarf jumped and flushed a little at being caught staring, “Larid, of the Blue Mountians, scholar and first hand councillor to her Majesty Dis. At your service!” the bow he gave almost had him on his nose from the dip and Bilbo fidgeted with the grandeur show. How embarrassing to be subjected to such a thing. He wasn't the King for heavens sake.

 

“Pleasure to meet you Lord Larid,” Bilbo smiled a warmly as he could and sat back down, fussing over the edges of his jacket and buttons. The Dwarf merely stood where he was and said nothing more, only stared with a far off expression on his face and Bilbo felt as though he'd been placed on a pedestal.

 

“Court is back in session, attendees please make you way back inside for the resuming of His Majesty's council!” Balin's voice boomed from everywhere and Bilbo jumped up from his bench, gave a fleeting smile to Larid, who was still watching him, and jogged back through the great doors to Thorin's side. Keeping his head down, he failed to notice Thorin casting him a confused glance before clocking Larid with his dopey smile fixed on Bilbo, his confusion waging a sudden war with hostile jealousy.

 

“I see you met my sisters councillor, Master Larid?” he didn't mean to sound so angry, nor spit the words like they were rotten in his mouth, and he instantly regretted such a tone when Bilbo's stunned face rose from his chest.

 

“What-” Bilbo was cut off by the bell ringing to signal the restart and he could say no more, but Thorin could see his openly dumbfounded thought pattern and scowled, throwing himself down into his seat with a great amount of frustration behind it. It hurt his back but he kept his face thunderous as Bilbo flashed his head back and forth between a winking Larid and a broiling Thorin with a pained face. He had no idea what on earth was going on and it hurt to be clearly accused of something, the something he could not pin, but he set his jaw and squared himself as he set to listening to the next round of coalition debates, Kingly mood swings and leering Dwarves be damned.

 

–

 

“Bilbo! C'mere!” Bofur cheered, waving the hobbit over in the rammed out halls. There was a feast going on, again, and Bilbo was pleasantly warm and fuzzy from his ruthless round of drinking games with Fili and Kili.

 

“Evening!” he chimed, settling down next to the miner with a wide and bleary smile, almost hitting the table when his back was thumped with force. Many new Dwarves were situated around him and introductions were given sloppily but it was hardly noticed over the roars of praise when they realised who he was and what he had been a part of.

 

“... saved our King he did! Right little knife thrower he is, smart and a quick as a fox the sneaky little bastard! Hit the ugly git right in the temple!” Nori shouted to another round of over loud cheering and tankard banging.

 

“No, no no! I didn't do much more than glaze his face I'll have you know!” Bilbo protested, waving off yet another offer of ale, “I was knocked out, I told you that! Ignorant pigs!” his insult was met with gratuitous back pounding that had him fearing for his ribs.

 

“Someone so small and yet so honourable and brave beyond measure. 'Tis a rarity in these lands, something to be admired and cherished!” came a drawl next to him and Bilbo leapt a foot out of his seat, whirling to see a rather drunk Dwarrowdam smiling at him, reaching to touch his curls and finding his ears fascinating. His drinking companions did nothing to help him by cheering on and whistling around him, Bofur and Nori discussing something heatedly across the table, eyes fixed on him.

 

“Oh I-”

 

“You've hair like spun gold and your eyes are as bright as his Majesty's emeralds beneath a sea of storm clouds,” she continued in awe, giggling when he flushed hot and red from his toes to his ears.

 

“Leave off of the hobbit Korlai, you're making him blush!” boomed a chortling Dwarf from the other end of the bench, spilling his drink down his front as he lost balance. Thorin sat at the head table watching the rowdy group with a dark stare, itching to move and put himself in the way of the touchy Dwarrowdam. Every time her fingers brushed Bilbo's clothes or touched his hair, his breathing got faster and harder to control and his blood sang with anger. Rather than cause the scene he so wished to, he simply stood quickly and drew most of the halls attention, including Bilbo's worried eyes, then stormed from the room with a snarl.

 

–

 

Bilbo was sitting on a piece of polished rock by the main gates, watching the comings and goings of travellers and trade carts with little curiosity. He had in his hands a carrot, given to him by the handmaiden of the Lady who had flirted mercilessly with him three days before at the feast. He had absolutely no idea why a carrot and when he asked the maiden, she had simply shrugged as ladylike as possible and walked away.

 

He sought Bofur out in the evening in the kitchens and held out the carrot.

 

“Growing them?” the miner had asked, though his innocent face was all too easy for Bilbo to see through.

 

“Explain why I have been given carrots and bunches of herbs in baskets of pies and bread rolls for the last three days because I _know_ you know something, _do not even try to wiggle out of this_!” he hissed, shoving the carrot at the Dwarf. Bofur had the decency to look apologetic and went to speak, but as he opened his mouth, Gloin burst in with a set of sheaths and went straight for Bilbo.

 

“For you, names not given though!” he said with a huff, dumped the set in the stunned hobbits arms and left. Bilbo gaped and turned to find Bofur had disappeared. He sucked on his teeth and shook his head sharply as he moved the table and set about opening the sheaths. He found a set of stunningly polished garden hand tools; a trowel, hand fork, nimble shears and three different sized implements for creating seed holes.

 

“Confounded, _sodding_ Dwarves!”

 

“Something we've done as a whole or just some Dwarf in particular?” came Thorin's strong baritone from behind him and for the first time in a long while, Bilbo didn't jump or startle, instead he spun and pinned the King with a furious glare.

 

“Who is sending me these things?” he breathed, noting quickly that Thorin was completely without any royal dress or adornments, merely in breeches and a tunic with his hair pulled back, “And why? Do you know?”

 

Thorin appeared stunned and peered around the furious hobbit to look at the tools on the table and the discarded carrot further down the wood, “No.”

 

“I think you know what it all means and _I think_ you could also find out who this is and what I am supposed to do about it all?!” his voice had reached such a level in volume that Thorin flinched before bringing himself up to his full height with a sharp look down his nose.

 

“I will not interfere with the choices of those in my kingdom.”

 

“Choices?” Bilbo stopped, “What do you mean?”

 

“You are to live as you wish and decide as you wish,” and he left with all the grace of a landslide, slamming the doors behind him in his wrath. Bilbo was left gawking at the wall for a long moment before he scooped up his tools and carrot and left for his rooms.

 

–

 

Thorin was fuming, boiling hot with rage as he paced in the throne room. Courting Bilbo? His hobbit? How dare they assume he was free to do such a dance. He stopped and stuffed his face in his hands with a groan of pain. Of course he was free to do such things as courting. He wasn't Thorin's. The only claim the King had over their resident hobbit was that he was his advisor and friend. He wailed in annoyance and began his pacing with gusto.

 

“So, they believe that he can be wooed by such things as garden trophies?” he grumbled, twirling back and forth, “I will see him by my side, with his golden curls and sugared smile for only my eyes! None shall touch him!” he snarled and his face twisted into a sardonic smile as a plan formed in his mind, “Guard!” he bellowed and soon the doors opened, “Fetch a member of my company and take him to my quarters.”

 

“Yes my King, which one would you be requestin'?”

 

“Bring me Nori.”

 

–

 

“So, there's about five of them vying for his attention now?” Dwalin asked, sipping at his drink.

 

“Ar, Lady Korlai, Master Larid, Lady Venle and Lord Harund from Dain's court.”

 

“That's four, ye ginger dick!” Bofur chortled, banging his tankard down with a jiggle, “Who's the other one?”

 

Nori's eyes were set on the table for a second before he raised his head slowly, “Think 'is name was Toby or summat. From Laketown, too tall if ya ask me but seems mighty keen on Bilbo. Very jealous and completely stupid when it comes to courtin' a lad. Can't even be around him fo' five seconds without causin' the dot an insult or settin' his blood pressure off!” he laughed and swallowed more ale.

 

“So, we got a bet on yet?” Bofur piped, “I could get the others in on it, maybe Thorin too if he's up to a bit of fun!”

 

“I wouldn't dare ask the King, he'd be mighty annoyed if he thought we was cashin' in from Bilbo's distress!” Dawlin shook his head, “He'll have yer wrists cut. He thinks too high of him to join in with a bit o' fun.”

 

“You speak truths my friend!”

 

“Distress?” Bofur asked, a little worried.

 

“Have ya actually _seen him_ since he received those invitations to dinner and those new daggers? Don't tell me you didn' see him after that basket of fruits was left in his rooms?” Nori laughed, “I thought he was honestly goin' to burst a vein or murder someone if they didn' explain it all!”

 

“I'll put two coins on the Master from the Blue Mountains,” said Bofur and Nori nodded.

 

“I'm goin' for the Laketown chap, seems like Bilbo's type!” Dawlin roared with a laugh and slapped the table at Nori's bet.

 

“I'll be bettin' my best blade on Lady Korlai, hers keen on him and I've yet to see anyone turn her down,” he said with a chug on his ale, missing Nori's twinkling eyes as he noted the bets on his hand.

 

“I'll be getting' to the others later tomorrow, see if I can't round up some more business for ye!” Bofur said, getting up to leave. Dawlin winked at the thief and followed the miner out of Nori's hideout.

 

“More mugs you mean,” he smiled to himself.

 

By the end of the next day, there were bets placed on every single Dwarf attempting to win Bilbo's hand, though the princes deigned not to join the betting pool out of fear of Thorin's rage if he ever found out the bet was in place and especially if he found they had joined it.

 

–

 

For the second night in a row, Bilbo found himself waiting for his dinner guest in the designated place. It had been over an hour since he'd arrived and was getting agitated and cold, wiggling his nose where he had flopped in his chair.

 

“Master Baggins, why are you in here?”

 

Bilbo sighed and pinched his nose. He'd been spotted again, “No reason. Yourself?” he asked Thorin who had yet to appear from the darkened hall to his right.

 

“I often walk in the evening. It helps to clear my mind from the painful abuse it has suffered through my courts,” he rumbled and Bilbo pushed up from his seat with a huff.

 

“Well, I shall leave you to your clearing. Goodnight!” he said lightly and began off down the corridor.

 

“Master Baggins!” Thorin called and Bilbo stopped out of instinct, turned and wandered back with a cheerful smile though his eyes were tired and mildly hurt. Thorin felt a jab of anguish at knowing he was causing it, “Walk with me?”

 

“I don't think-”

 

“Please?” Thorin added quietly, coming out of his hiding place, “I wish to apologise for insulting you last evening, I had no right to find fault with your clothing, you are to wear what you please in my Kingdom. I had been in session all day and my mood was low and I acted without thought. Forgive my mindless temper?” He kept his real reasons to himself; seeing Bilbo eagerly waiting for another, _and in their courting gifts_ , it had rocketed his jealous, possessive rage to the surface.

 

Bilbo was shocked into a mild stupor for a moment and stared at the open face of the Dwarf King standing in the moonlight. He was still in his royal dress and his light crown glinted in his pitch black hair, “I, oh. Alright, consider yourself forgiven. Again!” he smiled and rocked on his feet. Thorin had rudely dismissed him the evening previous to the one before, when he had found Bilbo waiting on the ramparts for one of his dinner dates. He had apologised the next evening, only to insult his outfit for that evenings no-shower.

 

“Will you honour me with your company on this clear night?” Thorin asked as he took one of Bilbo's hands, dipping his head as he waited for Bilbo's refusal. When a small hand touched his shoulder, he smiled brightly and brought his forehead forward to press against the hobbits smooth skin. The hobbit was not anticipating the loving gesture; Thorin ended up head-butting Bilbo harder that he meant to and right on the bridge of his little nose.

 

“By the Val-” Bilbo yelled, covering his face quickly with a moan of pain, pushing off Thorin's fussing hands.

 

“I'm so sorry! I had only meant-”

 

“ _What!_?” Bilbo hissed, glaring at the distressed Dwarf through his fingers, “You menace! What were you trying to do?!”

 

“I was trying to-” Thorin found his throat close up and his anger took over, “Menace?! _You_ are the fool who knows nothing about my culture, and yet, when you are being shown in blatant displays, you are stupidly oblivious to all and anything!” the King roared and waved his hands at Bilbo's face, “Find Oin, that's broken!” he snapped and fumed away, leaving a bewildered Bilbo to stare after him with frustration pouring from every cell of his body.

 

–

 

Four days of constant glares sent his way, Thorin felt as small as a pebble in the sea. He had tried to apologise to Bilbo and he'd been met with deadly blackened eyes and not a single word, just a deep sigh and his back turned upon him. The King was at the end of his rope and he truly wished he had the gift of Elrond or even to turn back time to remedy the whole affair. If he had enough sense about him, even bravery and the ability to bare his emotions as easily as those suitors, he would have had the hobbit the moment the battle had ended. Yet he had settled for asking for forgiveness in friendship and had laced his words with meaning and still Bilbo had not read between the lines.

 

“He is the kind of soul that needs to be told bluntly and you know it! Either you speak to him or keep it shut for the rest of his time here because I cannot and will not be subjected to your pining! Not after what I've already stood by you through! This is idiocy!” Balin had snapped that morning, having gotten fed up with Thorin's moping and longing daydreams whenever Bilbo's name had been mentioned. His calm demeanour had broken the second Thorin blew up and smashed a crystal bowl after hearing of Larid having an order sent to the jeweller for emerald laden betrothal rings.

 

“I can't! Balin, I _can't_!” Thorin had pleaded, desperately pawing at his friend's robes, “He does not look upon me in that manner and I cannot force him to. I'm lost without him! I don't know what to do anymore, everything I've tried has back fired and I've hurt him over and over again. If I cause that look of pain in his eyes once more, I'll throw myself off the mountain!”

 

“Don't you dare lower yourself to some petulant child's level, Thorin, King of Erebor!”

 

“I'll cut off my hair!” Thorin held back a sob and resolved himself to the fact that he whole heartedly meant what he threatened. Balin pinned him where he knelt with a stare Thorin had not seen since he was a child.

 

“For the love of all that we stand for, will you get a hold of yourself!” he spat, “For goodness sake, Thorin he has never hinted at nor even spoken of anything that relates to you and your affections. He does not know of how you feel and by the encounters he has with you, he believes more than not, that you hate him. That you only tolerate him, have only ever tolerated him-”

 

“ _What_? How can he think such things!”

 

“Have you ever given him cause to believe otherwise?” Balin said softly, his usual soft expression gleaming down at Thorin's broken face. The King thought for a moment, opened his mouth to protest and quickly shut it. He shook his crowned head and sat back on his heels, rolling his eyes as they tried to break tears and shoved his face into his hands with a cry.

 

“I-” he choked, moving to sit cross legged while he soaked the palms of his gloves.

 

“Lad, you only need speak with him-” Balin tried softly though the Dwarf wailed.

 

“He will not even sit by me in court unless ordered to! He won't allow me to speak with him, not any longer. He believes I loathe him and because of my inability, my _weakness_ when it comes to my heart, my stupid, _stupid_ actions, I have turned that loathing upon myself!” he cried, throwing his arms out and growling with anger. He quickly launched to his feet and reached for another crystal bowl and threw it at the wall with enough force to render it irreparable. Balin sighed and rubbed his temples.

 

“He does not hate you, nor will he ever,” the old Dwarf huffed, eyeing the mess on the rugs, “Perhaps if you made your feelings known in a more, obvious manner, _after an apology_ -” he warned when Thorin tried to argue, “-he wouldn't be so blind.”

 

–

 

“Master hobbit, O' burglar extraordinaire! I have a gift for you!” Nori cheered through Bilbo's door and the hobbit groaned, looking at the small gathering in the corner; books, more tools, more clothes, a set of beads which had made the King _explode_ when they had been delivered in the middle of the session that morning, gems turned into shapes of food, a small box from Larid he dared not open. It was giving him a headache. He had learnt that he was being courted, it wasn't just a set of nice gestures for being a part of the company, no, and he had been completely unaware, and had unknowingly accepted offers and behaved as friendly as he could, giving them all the 'go ahead'. As soon as Bombur had dropped the insight during dinner last night, Bilbo had glared at every single Dwarf present and had locked himself away in his rooms, only to surface for his advisory duty. Even then he was accosted.

 

“Leave! I don't want any more gifts, love letters – not that they even constitute – food items, dress clothes, shoes! _Shoes_! For goodness sake! Go! I'll have no more!”

 

“Ah but I can't, ya see, it's from that human in Laketown and it's a right bother to send it all the way back, don't ya know?” Nori hummed and Bilbo sighed so deeply that he almost fell forward out of his chair. Toby had been sending him the most practical gifts and even though he had yet to meet the fellow, he knew it was bad manners and utterly rude to rebuke any gifts, especially those that had been travelling. He got up with a grumble and unbolted his door.

 

“My goodness that's rather large. How did you manage to carry that?” he gasped and moved aside for Nori to push the desk inside. He settled it in the corner opposite the fire and smiled, dusting off his hands.

 

“Dwarf!” he smiled and clapped the hobbits shoulder, “Pretty ennit?” and left, closing the door after him.

 

“My, oh gracious, that's-” Bilbo blubbered, creeping up on the carven desk with an awestruck face. The desk was very large in width with legs carved into trees, drawers and holes for his inkwells and pens and a cut out for a mug. It had a lip so that nothing would slide off and angled so that he needn't lean too much. It was stunning, decorated with flowers and plant-life and lovingly polished. The front right leg had a small and yet very noticeable 'T' carved into the roots, “Toby. Quite the carpenter!” he laughed and rummaged around in his pile of gifts for the inkwells, quills, papers and ornate paint pots that had been sent two days ago. He settled them all in their places and he realised that they had all been made to fit the desk perfectly, the crystal bottles and pots slotting into where they belonged. He opened the drawer under the top of the desk to put his papers away and almost dropped them when he saw a large leather bound book sitting in there, small vines and acorns etched into the edges and 'BB' in the corner. It was filled with blank pages.

 

Smiling as his body went warm and bubbly, Bilbo slipped the papers underneath and ran his fingers along the leather, “I'm waiting for our meeting, Master Toby, for I cannot wait to thank you properly.”

 

–

 

“Who has made the most progress then lads?” Nori shouted of the din in his hideout.

 

“Well, seeing as none of 'em have _actually_ had any time with Bilbo, miscommunication and that, I heard Lady Venle has sent Bilbo a cask of dorwinion wine and some silverware he is, apparently, rather fond of!” called Gloin.

 

“Larid has sent Bilbo a set of betrothal rings but I dunno if the hobbit has even opened the box, looked just a little uneasy when I handed it to him!” laughed Bofur, “You'd 'ave thought it was goin' to bite his fingers off!”

 

“The Lady Korlai had embroidered a bundle of handkerchiefs for our resident burglar and they haven't left their packaging, I seen it earlier when I dropped off 'is most recent gift!” Nori called loudly, “What of Harund?”

 

“Ah, he gave up after Bilbo flat refused to wear his emblem, on account of all the tunics he gifted him being covered in it!” chortled Bombur which sent the table into a deafening round of cheerful insults and laughing. Nori banged the head of his axe down on the wood to call their attention.

 

“So one is out! Pay up if you bet on 'is royal cowardice, Harund, Lord of the house of Harrad of the Iron Hills!” he stuck his hand out and received nothing, “No one bet on 'im?” they all grunted and shook their bushy heads.

 

“Nah, he's way too old and creepy for dear Bilbo, knew nothing about hobbits! Never even tried to ask for advice like the others!” Ori chirped from behind his sketching.

 

“What did ye say?” Dwalin asked quietly now that every set of sets were fixed on the scribbling Dwarf.

 

“Well, they've all been stopping by and asking all sorts of questions and I told them little bits that I know of, of course, but I ain't told them everything! None of them are worthy of Bilbo, he's too kind and nice and not at all for them!” Ori retorted, staring blankly at the giant Dwarf with just one eyebrow lifted. He blinked and went back to drawing.

 

“Ya ain't bet on any of them have ye?”

 

“Just Toby!” he chirped, “And no, I ain't met him! Just exchanged an order for ink and paper. See, he knows Bilbo likes those kinds of things, not fancy gems and silly, over the top novelties like tools and hankies! At least he's been paying attention, ain't been asked nothing I ain't.”

 

“Has anyone actually met or seen this chap?” asked Oin, shaking his trumpet when they all grumbled around a unanimous 'no'.

 

Nori bit the inside of his cheek, calling for a refill.

 

–

 

“Oh for goodness sake!” Bilbo screeched, yanking his door open for the fifth time that night, “Enough gifts! I've enough Dwarven delights in this room as it is, soon I'll be climbing over it all!”

 

“Evening, Master Baggins, but his Majesty is requesting your presence immediately,” chuckled a guard from under his helm. Bilbo gaped, shook a little and sighed through a nod.

 

“Let me just get my jacket, one moment!” Bilbo huffed and shut the door. He'd not seen or spoken to Thorin since the fit of rage turned into a screaming match that morning and had gotten Bilbo dismissed rather abruptly. He quickly buttoned his waistcoat and, without much thought, pulled on a navy blue jacket that he'd found in the bottom most drawer of the desk, and left after the guard. He followed him through a set of interlacing corridors and out into the wide open hall on a high walkway he'd not been on before. He was lead higher until he was told to go along the corridor on his own from the point where it went into the wall, the guard standing solid and silent as he took his stance. Bilbo hesitated a second and walked through the dim passage on light feet, following the unmistakable sound of Thorin singing until he came out in a chamber bathed in moonlight. Above him, there was a glass roof with a split down the middle, giant wheels that connected chains to the wall just underneath. In the middle of the room was the King himself, singing lowly as he scuffed dirt around with what looked like a very geometrical rake. He was in nothing more than breeches and a shirt, even barefoot with a high tail on his head.

 

“Am I looking at you, for certain, or is this a mirage?” Bilbo wondered quietly, unaware that he had spoken. Thorin hadn't heard him and kept on raking, wiggling his toes in the earth. Bilbo had never seen him so carefree before and it struck him dumb while he watched from the archway. Thorin's arms swung as he sang softly in Khuzdul, carefully swooping the rake back and forth and side to side in some sort of dance. His shirt was pulled where his back and shoulder muscles bunched and it rode up when he dropped to his knees and tried to reach across the earth to a basket sitting a distance from him; the shirt lifted and revealed mid back to the waistband of his breeches, the skin smooth and illumine in the moons silvery gleam, catching on the curve of his lower back as he reached. When he realised that he couldn't move the basket with his mind, Thorin crawled forward very carefully through his raked lines and Bilbo's face fell slack and his eyes drooped. His back moved with the grace of a great feline and his breeches caught tightly on the swell of his backside, sending an itch through Bilbo's fingers. _He needed to_ _ **grab**_ _it_.

 

“Guard!” Thorin barked, moving to stand up, smacking the dirt from his hands. As he turned around, Bilbo jumped and coughed and Thorin took a step back in surprise.

 

“My King?” came an echoed voice and Bilbo flushed from the stare he was being subjected to, blue eyes roaming over every inch of his form.

 

“Forgive my shout. I had- as you were!” Thorin called back and he dipped his head with a small smile, “How long have you been watching me?” he asked softly, his voice rumbling through the room despite his aim for quietness. Bilbo smiled dazedly, caught completely off guard by how approachable the Dwarf was.

 

“I came in while you were raking. I'm sorry I didn't reveal myself but it's a rare thing to see you so carefree and relaxed,” the hobbit spoke as softly and took a step forward, knocked for a loop again when Thorin chuckled and gave him a toothy smile, the bridge of his nose pink, “What is this room? Or is it an atrium?”

 

“It is an atrium, yes,” he remarked fondly, looking around the vast chamber, “It used to be a bath house before it dried out. A rock slide had broken through the thin roof and I decided to refurbish it, in a sense. I had the roof made so that it may be pulled open to allow the sun in. I had wanted to tell you before but I kept ruining any time I had with you by opening my mouth.”

 

This honest and quiet admission had Bilbo stop moving, watching the King, stripped of his regalia and stress, standing before him as nothing more than a Dwarf of Erebor, just Thorin, “I wouldn't say you ruined it...” he trailed off, at loss for words as Thorin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

 

“It was ready for use the day I broke your nose,” he mumbled, “I had sought you out so that I could bring you up here and you could put it to use. My folk are not the kind to toil in dirt, but since I could not be so bold ask to ask for forgiveness after that night, I have been grooming the dirt to sooth my mind. I have found it very tranquil and they say that if you sing to the earth, she will take to your seedlings like her own children, and feed them with your words.” Now Bilbo could not find a word to speak, not one. He could only stare at Thorin as he shuffled his feet and wriggled his naked toes in the dirt, a happy smile dancing on his lips. They watched one another for a long time, so long that the guard called to check if they were still in there.

 

“We're fine!” Thorin shouted kindly, unable to stop smiling at Bilbo where he was rooted to the floor, “It's all I can do for now, my duty is consuming during the day and I know you have been thinking of staying permanently and I remember how your little garden looked and that hobbits have green fingers and a love of nature and being in this mountain must be difficult for you to withstand and-”

 

“Wait!” Bilbo cut in, “Is this for me?” he asked, eyes wide and his breathing jumpy. Thorin gave a slow nod and Bilbo nearly lost himself at the knees, “ _You_ made this, this _garden_ , for me?”

 

“Yes. It's not much but-” the wind was knocked from Thorin as Bilbo collided with his chest, his arms tight around his waist and his head buried under his chin. Thorin quickly brought his arms around his shoulders and nosed his curly hair.

 

“Thank you! You are truly the greatest friend a hobbit could ask for!” he mumbled into Thorin's chest and pulled back the instant the Dwarf went rigid, “Are you-”

 

“I'm fine, Master Baggins. I have just realised that I have a document on the fishing licensing for the River Running that I should have replied to during court today. If you'll excuse me?” he removed his arms and wandered off the soft dirt, picked up his boots from the darkened walkway around the edge, his coat and sword, gave a curt nod to Bilbo and left in a near run.

 

“But I signed that off...” Bilbo murmured as Thorin's footfalls fell silent.

 

–

 

Nori, retired thief and spymaster, was humiliated to admit that Bilbo had snook up on him and scared him half to death in his hideout.

 

“I need to ask you a question and also, a favour.”

 

“Alright, alright, but don't ya ever sneak up on me again! Luck ya ain't lost an eye ya ghostly creature, tormenting unsuspecting Dwarves!”

 

“Yes, calm down dimwit! Now, firstly, you're the one bringing me Toby's gifts, I would like you to give him this note the next time you run his errand,” he thrust the envelope into Nori's hands, “Secondly, what on earth is wrong with Thorin? He's avoiding me and when he has absolutely no choice but to speak to me, he does it as though he is physically having to force his voice out.”

 

Nori raised his brow as much as his eyebrows would allow, “I have no idea. Not like ya offended him did ya?” he asked, side eyeing the hobbit as he pocketed the envelope inside his jacket.

 

“I don't believe I have, it's usually the other way around. I tried to ask but each time he's given some excuse and walked off before I could even gather my wits.”

 

“He's usually vocal when you annoy him ent he? Nah, heard nothin' mate. When was the last time you proper spoke to 'im?” the ginger Dwarf offered a tankard but Bilbo waved him off so he settled down nonetheless with a great slurp.

 

“I suppose it would be in the atrium he built-”

 

“Ah, took him a while to make that. It's a beauty ennit?”

 

“Well, yes, of course it is!” Bilbo replied hotly, “He told me it was for me. That he had made it for me to use as a garden, can you believe that?” he chuckled and Nori nodded slowly; of course he could, “I thanked him profoundly! I told him he was truly the greatest friend I could have ever hoped for and since then, nothing,” Bilbo looked wounded and dropped his head, fingers flicking here and there with emotional turmoil. Nori had to bite his tongue very hard; the hobbit really was blind to Thorin's affections and courting. And now the King was likely assuming he was being rebuffed and was trying to distance himself to save what dignity and pain he could.

 

“Well, perhaps ya could try and speak with 'im? Ask for 'is forgiveness even though it ain't needed, ya know, a gesture of goodwill an' all that?” he offered softly, “Any road! I'll be off, got business in Laketown so I'll send this note on its way!” he got up quickly, never one to be able to deal with feelings very well, especially other peoples, and went for the door.

 

“You know this Toby, what does he look like?”

 

“No idea mate! Not actually seen 'im, 'is gifts and correspondence comes through King Bard.”

 

–

 

It was a further four days later and, after sitting through six court sessions, one hearing and a private debate between Thorin and an Elven host from Mirkwood, Bilbo was feeling anxious. He had yet to get Thorin alone without a shouting match occurring or being abruptly dismissed and Toby was due in Erebor that evening for their first meeting. He was excited and whistled as he bathed with the shampoos and soaps the human had sent him. They were strongly scented with strawberry and mint and had been handmade. He got ready slowly, wandering around in his underwear in his warm rooms, the fire blazing and casting his glorious desk in orange light.

 

Bilbo rummaged again in the pile of gifts, the only ones he had an eye for were the clothes the Lakeman has sent him, perfectly sized, unlike those sent by the Dwarven admirers, and fixed with beautiful Shire patterning, pockets and shiny brass buttons on them. The green jacket and cream waistcoat had daffodils carved into the buttons and the red coat buttons had been left blank. He decided to go with the green and cream set and fussed about with his braces and neck-tie.

 

Wandering through Erebor in the evenings as Spring set in was a chilly affair, but amazingly beautiful as the sun set and the lights were set ablaze. It was mesmerizing now that the city had been almost restored, the stone reset and polished, all of the walkways bustling with Dwarves and tradesmen. He had yet to explore the different districts that had been rebuilt, the scholar wing and the hospital level. He had taken to staying where he knew best, around the halls where he was required and the wings of his friends, the atrium the only part he ventured to with a guard as he knew very little of the route. It seemed to be the only room up there.

 

He walked slowly through the kings hall, looking up at cleaned and fixed tapestries and paintings, the statues and on until he stood upon the floor that should have been solid gold. Thorin had ordered in to be covered with marble and new level steps had been added at either end, the edging the only indication that any gold lay underneath. He moved on to where he would find the corridor to the western halls and balcony where the guests of Erebor were housed during their stay, smiling as his heart bounced when he realised just how close he was to meeting this man for the first time.

 

Toby had, by no small feat, given Bilbo practical, usable and modest gifts and letters for the past few weeks, easy conversation and lovely tales and compliments. The hobbit was more than ready to meet this soul for he felt as though he would find with him someone he would rather enjoy spending his time with. He walked on quick feet until he reached the halls, rowdy with Elves and men drinking and making merry with songs and dance. Nobody paid him much mind and he wandered around with polite greetings until he had circled the hall and the balcony, not one approaching him.

 

“Bilbo!” he spun and smiled at Balin as he hobbled over quickly, “I've a message from your suitor that you are to wait in the room next to the kings hall. He'll be there shortly, he had a little business with King Thorin and he's a little behind,” he said sweetly, taking a deep breath before bellowing out, “Which one of you sprightly lads would be Ollialt? Ah, yes, Princes Fili and Kili are no longer resident as they have gone to meet their mother's caravan from Ered Luin-” Bilbo left quickly, almost running back the way he came until he found himself in the hall, dumbly looking around for the other door. Surely Balin hadn't meant the court room? It was the only door. Bilbo had never really looked around much, too lost in a temper to notice that no other doors existed, only archways and corridors.

 

“Court is in session!” he mimicked the older Dwarf, pushing the wooden door open and closing it quietly. It was comforting in the grand space without so many busy and active mouths running off. He smiled and walked to Thorin's chair, running his fingers along the trailing fabric lightly before moving into the circular space that no chair occupied. The great stone table ran around the room in a grand ring, the only gap was where Thorin's legs were, the empty space giving off the image of imposing power where it left only Thorin fully visible. So he sat where usually only air danced, sitting down on the lip to wait.

 

He was almost asleep on his knees when the door opened with a light creak, banging behind whoever had walked in.

 

“Baggins?” Bilbo groaned and stood up, his tried eyes falling on the King in his royal garb, looking about in search of the hobbit.

 

“Your Majesty,” he waved lazily, almost giving into a sob. He had wanted to find the Dwarf and talk to him but not now, not right now. But it seemed he was fated to sort out this mess of a friendship before he was allowed to even see a potential partner, “Here.”

 

“I am sorry you have been kept waiting,” Thorin said slowly, his eyes burning over Bilbo as he sighed, moving out from where he was until he stood in front of the bejewelled King, “I wish to speak with you.”

 

“Can it wait? I have a meeting I am supposed to attend and-”

 

“It will not be happening tonight,” Thorin rumbled, unmoving and still staring.

 

“Excuse me? Why?” Bilbo snapped, “Don't tell me you sent him away!”

 

“No, I did not. Unlike the others I warned off-”

 

“I _beg_ your pardon?!” the hobbit shrieked, “You _sabotaged_ my meetings with those courting me? Thorin, King Under this Mountain or no, that was none of your business! _How dare you_!”

 

“They did not deserve your affections nor were they worthy of your heart! They would only serve to hurt you!” Thorin roared, moving back from the hissing hobbit, “They were after the glory of your heroism, could you not see that? And those gifts? Atrocious!” his lip curled in a snarl as Bilbo looked outraged, gaping with mad eyes.

 

“How do you know of- you messed with those too?!”

 

“I could not let-”

 

“You told me you I was free to do as I please and as I choose! Some of those gifts were perfectly suited for a hobbit such as myself!” Bilbo was steadily losing his temper and his ears burned with his fury, following the Dwarf as he moved around in an attempt to keep out of the reach of the hobbits hands, “You are supposed to be my friend above all else, or does that not apply to you any more? You wish to see me heart broken and alone than witness me happy for a fleeting moment? Is that it? You plan to drive me out of this mountain don't you!”

 

“No! I wish for nothing of the sort!”

 

“Then why have you attempted to drive away anyone remotely interested in me?”

 

“I have not driven them away, merely suggested they back off until you come to decision,” Thorin growled, his back hitting the curve of the stone table as Bilbo stalked him.

 

“Then why am I yet to meet the only suitor I wish to court? The only one I feel anything for? Where is he now? Did you send him away or not?” Bilbo hissed lowly, his face twisted with rage.

 

“I said I did not!” Thorin barked, trying to loom over the smaller male but Bilbo was having none of it and it only made him seethe further. He noticed the King had a very familiar letter in his left hand.

 

“Where did you get that?”

 

“None of your concern!” Thorin bristled, holding the paper out of the way when Bilbo snatched for it.

 

“That _is private_! You have no right to read my personal letters!” the hobbit looked hurt

 

“It was addressed to me!”

 

“It _was not_! It was addressed to the Lakeman! It was _addressed_ to Toby!”

 

“I _am_ Toby!” Thorin bellowed, throwing his arms out. For a stretch, only their heavy breathing was heard as Thorin deflated against the table, running a hand down his face, and Bilbo stared incredulously. 

 

“You lie,” Bilbo accused, stepping back.

 

“ _Why_ would I lie to you? _Why_ would I _ever_ lie to you?” Thorin's voice cracked and he lifted his eyes, large and pleading, to meet Bilbo's. 

 

“I don't understand...” the hobbit spoke quietly, moving away to where he had been previously sitting, staring at the floor while Thorin battled with his emotional wall, taking a sledgehammer to it in one fell swoop. His voice bubbled up his throat and burst forth with a great wail of anguish.

 

“Why must I have such a _cursed_ mouth?” he groaned, fisting his hair, “I have been trying to show you who I really am underneath this-” he waved his arms around, “-those gifts, the letters, they are who I am, care and love I could not voice, but I could craft. I could not approach you and tell you of my heart because I am a coward! I foolishly hid behind an alias in the hope that I'd be able to confess before-” he swallowed, “I am so sorry, I meant for none of this to happen as it has, my intention was never to hurt you but I had no idea what I was doing! I have been too consumed with jealousy and obsession to see what a mess I was making. I should have not behaved as though you were mine,” Thorin sighed, looking at his hands and slid to the floor, hiding behind his hair even though Bilbo was out of sight, “I should have been honest with you. I am so, _so sorry_ Bilbo.”

 

Bilbo sniffed and rubbed at his damp eyes and moved swiftly on silent feet until he stood before the sobbing King on the floor. A pitiful sight; Thorin, King of Erebor, reduced to a shuddering mess, sitting on the cold stone with is knees up, patched elbows on the caps with his face hidden in his hands and behind his thick hair. Bilbo had never seen the Dwarf with even a hint of sadness etched into his face, let alone heard or witnessed him weeping like a broken man. 

 

“Why did you not say something?” Bilbo whispered, settling down on his knees just out of arms reach.

 

Thorin swallowed but remained hidden, “because every single time I open my mouth, I fire off and hurt you.”

 

“But you are hurting far more from having kept such a secret, Thorin,” Bilbo soothed, watching the cloaked shoulders jump with fresh sobs, “Why did you not come to me?”

 

“What could I have said that would have swayed your heart?” he mumbled, “You have only ever held me as a friend, how could I hope to have more?”

 

“Thorin, you have done far more than any other Dwarf in all of the land, you gave me a new life, you gave me hope when I thought it was a fairytale. You have such faith in me and I want for nothing under your rule, you have given me a home where I thought it not possible and you gave me all of those gifts. I see now just how obvious you've been-”

 

“But you believed it was someone else, not me!”

 

“Yes, I did, and who's fault was that?” he smiled though Thorin still hid away from him, “You should have told me. We all do ridiculous things, but it doesn't mean the love behind it is any less worthy. Thorin look at me? Please?” Bilbo touched the end of his boot and shuffled a little closer.

 

The King raised his head slowly and his face crumpled at seeing Bilbo with streaks down his cheeks and concerned brimming in his eyes, “I have hurt you, forgive me?” he said quietly, his eyes puffy but Bilbo shook his head.

 

“No, you haven't,” he smiled softly, “I forgive you for nothing Thorin. This time, there's nothing to forgive because I found I was happy, I had fallen in love-”

 

“But I've taken that from you because he wasn't even real!” Thorin rushed, banging his head back on the stone. Bilbo sighed and shuffled forward a little more.

 

“Stop that! You've taken nothing away but an idea, you daft Dwarf! Stop interrupting me!” he snapped, “Listen to me; I began _falling_ in love with him, the person I pictured in my mind,” he said slowly, “The one who sent me those lines of poetry, sheets of music, letters, gifts, that stunning desk... But then I realised that the idea of this man was no match for the one who already had claim over me. You see, _he_ has a name I have always held in my heart, and a face so beautiful, a heart so full. I fell in love with _him_ , and nothing could hope to replace or challenge that, do you understand?”

 

“Me?” Thorin asked and Bilbo bit his lip and gave a slow nod, “You might have said something,” he quipped with a stunned mouth.

 

“Well, you're the King, Thorin, I could hardly begin courting you!” he said, as if that explained everything. Thorin raised his eyebrow, “Then we are both brainless idiots with a knack for keeping important matters from those it shouldn't be kept from!”

 

Thorin moved his head from the stone and regarded the hobbit by his feet, “You have loved me and yet I believed you to be from my reach,” he smiled, “I am sorry I have behaved like the stone I live in. I should have come to you sooner.”

 

“Yes, yes you should have and then you would have known long ago and this whole mess could have been avoided. I would never have been able to hide the truth from you, Thorin. This-”he reached for Thorin's hand and shuffled until he was close enough to hold it over his heart, “Has always been yours. Those other suitors would have been a bit of fun, but I'll admit I wanted 'Toby' because he was attainable and everything I knew you could be if you stopped being such a ridiculously stubborn Dwarf! If I could not have you I could at least find a small slither of happiness with him. I'm glad that he doesn't exist, not really, now that confessions have been made and I have you.”

 

“Idiot hobbit,” Thorin chuckled and leant forward, pressing his forehead to Bilbo's carefully, “I swear that I will never keep my feelings hidden from you again. My heart will only ever belong to you, if you would have it?”

 

“If my love is enough, then I will keep it tucked in my pocket forever more!” he smiled a great, toothy smile as Thorin pulled back.

 

“I do not deserve you,” he mumbled, stroking his thumbs over stained cheekbones.

 

“Hush, no one deserves me more than you, and I dare say I deserve no one more than you, you soppy fool!” Bilbo closed his hands around Thorin's wrists with a soft smile.

 

“No one will love you like I.”

 

“I don't doubt that but I would have you say it,” Bilbo challenged, “Tell me.”

 

“I love you, Bilbo of the Shire, of Erebor, I love you, I do, I have wanted you for so long, I have ached for you, my lovely, sweet Bilbo,” he gushed, sliding his hands to grip his jaw and pull him closer, “I wish to kiss you.”

 

“Who would have thought my King would be such a sap!” he giggled, leaning in for a kiss, only for Thorin to pull back, “What?”

 

“Say that again.”

 

“Sap.”

 

“No, you know what I mean,” Thorin rumbled, his voice a low tone behind stormy eyes.

 

“Oh, something about thoughts and, oh yes,” Bilbo dropped his voice and leant close enough that their noses almost touched, “ _My King_.”

 

The growl that came out of Thorin sent a rush through Bilbo as he was pulled forward into the Dwarf's lap, his mouth caught in soft kiss, a complete contrast to his manhandling. Thorin peppered his face with kisses, his jaw, his nose and then took his mouth in a kiss that consumed the hobbit wholly, raw and desperate and full of fire. A wet tongue lapped at his lips with each fresh slide of Thorin's until Bilbo opened them. He gripped at Thorin's wrists tighter, moaning lightly as the King shifted his legs down flat in order to have Bilbo straddle him, sliding his hands into honey curls.

 

Thorin kissed him almost senseless, “I should court you properly, with your full knowledge and acceptance-” he breathed, swooping to take another long kiss.

 

“But you have-” Bilbo huffed, eyes rolling as his bottom lip was sucked, “-and I said I wished to accept the courting from, well, _you_ -” his groaned as Thorin cupped the back of his head in one great hand and licked into his mouth, “-and you have been sending me things for weeks. So we've been unofficially courting for a long time now. We needn't start again!” he pointed out, running his hands up the Dwarf's neck and into thick, soft hair, “ _Oh, I've wanted to stuff my hands into this for months_!” 

 

“I would like my kingdom to know regardless-” he groaned so deep and low that Bilbo almost shivered out of his lap when the hobbit nibbled his throat, “-braiding and beads, uh, dinners, dancing, ballads, a grand gift, oh _good grief_ are you trying to undo me here on the floor?” he hissed, eyes rolling as the nibbles turned to bites as his multiple collars were pulled aside.

 

“Mm I'm tempted. You've given a grand gift, the garden, you've sang loads of times, you've danced plenty, my hair isn't long enough to braid and the beads need braids, dinners? Shared enough of those-” he sucked the juncture of Thorin's neck and shoulder, “Mind if I leave a bruise?”

 

Thorin moaned, a filthy sound that set Bilbo alight, “But I have to do it officially. You've no choice, I'm going to make it known that you are mine and mine alone!” he hissed as a hot tongue licked his skin, “If you mark me, I will not be held accountable for my loss of control,” he groaned as he felt teeth nip and bite him. Bilbo, unfortunately, pulled back to look him in the eye.

 

“Alright, do as your customs see fit, but,” he gave him a quick kiss on his panting lips, “like you say, I am yours and will only ever be so, I should like you to remember _you are mine_ in return,” he gave a dirty grin before sucking hard on his neck, laving the skin as blood rushed to surface, stinging and burning in such a way that had Thorin whimpering through choked howls of pleasure, his hips launching up as his hands held Bilbo's down.

 

“ _Bilbo_!” Thorin groaned, barely able to form the sound around his slack tongue, feet scrambling on the polished floor for purchase. Bilbo sucked harder and shifted, rolling his pelvis a little as he dug his teeth in lightly, “Mahal have mercy-” he choked, dropping his grip to Bilbo's round bottom and kneading the flesh through his britches.

 

“Goodness, such a beautiful reaction from one so usually reserved-” Bilbo's wonder was cut short by a particularly hard up-roll of the King's hips, his bunched clothes a sweet pressure on the hobbits throbbing groin while his hands gripped and pulled him back and forth over his thrusts.

 

Thorin, now that his throat was free of that vampire mouth, heaved in air and watched Bilbo in his hands, sighing and panting and fluttering his eyes as his head lolled back on his shoulders. Yet rolling his hips was nowhere near enough friction, the sight was not enough and yet altogether too much. He could feel nothing but a heavy weight through his layers and it sent a growl through his chest in frustration.

 

“Get up,” he breathed, pushing the wriggling male from his legs until he stood with a very irritated frown, watching Thorin scramble to his feet.

 

“This better not be another-”

 

“Shush. Here-” he tore the silver crown from his head and shoved it at Bilbo who barely caught it. Bilbo dipped his head and moved to place it somewhere on the table out of harms way and positively shook as he turned back to the sounds of rustling clothes. Throin was stripping off his outer layers with gusto, throwing them on the nearest chair until almost every layer was off, leaving him in a light shirt, trousers and his massive boots. He opened his arms with a coy grin and cocked his hip and head, “Much better.”

 

Bilbo's throat closed and he barely managed a dumb nod. This was the Thorin he knew, unguarded and alive and grounded, not a King weighed and worn down by duty and hardened by office.

 

“All of that effort, as appreciated as it is, was never truly needed, nor the secrecy. This is the Thorin I know, the one you keep hidden. You needn't have hid him from me,” Bilbo whispered and Thorin looked ashamed for a second before he blushed and stood straighter, “I have seen you for who you are, bone weary and bleeding, traumatised by grief and grudges and I have never held you in low regard for such a thing. _I know you_ , Thorin, and my love of and for you is fierce. No crown or royal title could ever hope to change that. You shouldn't have hidden from me, not me.” 

 

“Come here,” he said, reaching for the hobbit when he got close enough, his calloused hands cupping his jaw, tickling his ears, “What would you have me do to earn forgiveness for my stupidity?” he whispered and Bilbo broke into a bright smile.

 

“Make up for lost time, of course!” he said and Thorin gave him a quizzical look, “Beginning with where we left off!” The King needn't be told twice as he moved in slowly, taking Bilbo's mouth in a tender kiss that had the hobbit melting with the love he felt pouring out of the normally reserved Dwarf. Thorin guided him backwards with steady strides, never moving his hands nor his mouth, until Bilbo was pressed against the stone wall with a solid body invading his senses.

 

“I would undo you here, by your leave, in the same manner that you would have to me a moment ago had it not been for my clothing-” Thorin hushed against his ear lowly, nipping the lobe between blunt teeth and Bilbo sucked in air as though he had been starved of it, “-my loss of control would have been obvious even for one so oblivious.”

 

Bilbo grit his teeth and held strong forearms in a grip far stronger than Thorin would have believed possible, “Perhaps I should test that control further and see if you words hold truth?” he countered and almost squeaked when Thorin pressed impossibly close, his swollen cock a solid mass against Bilbo's belly. Thorin breathed hotly against the ear he assaulted and moved his pelvis only a touch as he settled his feet, his hands sliding down to turn Bilbo's jaw to the side, tonguing along his neck.

 

“Such threats from one rendered boneless under my hands,” he hissed, moaning deeply when Bilbo whimpered and stretched his neck out. That Bilbo was holding so tightly and making such sounds, such a display even as he was sandwiched between his body and the stone of his House, that he was open and wanting had Thorin flashing hot throughout as his arousal and possessive nature came together. He wanted to own Bilbo and own him utterly. Yet another rumbling growl ran up his throat as he pulled back enough to stare down at the mess he'd created with tongue and words.

 

“You-” panted the hobbit, “-my goodness, I _can't think_!” Thorin's smug grin disappeared into the crook of his throat where his teeth came to nip and tease.

 

“I would see your threat carried out, and deliver my own-” his voice was smooth and dark against the saltiness of Bilbo's neck, “-I would take you, I would have your body as I have your heart and mind. I want your entire being to only know the song of mine, my name and my touch, never to allow another to creep in nor to ever forget who you belong to.” He knew that it would never be otherwise, but he knew his words and his tone were wrecking Bilbo's resolve and his smug grin only grew stronger where he mouthed at the dancing pulse point in his hobbit's throat.

 

“Oh, my-” Bilbo breathed, his knees faltering against Thorin's strong legs, “-my King, allow me the space to carry out my threats before your own.”

 

“Such words should not push my control as they do, Mahal save me, sinful hobbit!” Throin hissed, pulling away reluctantly from Bilbo with a lecherous grin, “Do your worst!” he teased and moved back so that Bilbo could regain some stability and air.

 

“My common sense is telling me that I should not be doing this here,” he panted, foregoing to urge to straighten himself up a bit. Thorin walked to the other side of the great doors and pulled on an iron ring and Bilbo shivered with anticipation when the locking system clanged into place.

 

“We are not going to be disturbed, I assure you.”

 

“Then by all means,” Bilbo smiled, pushing off from the wall with his arms open and gave a little bow, “As you were.”

 

“I remember having you pinned-”

 

“Before you took those cloaks off!” Bilbo rushed and Thorin smirked.

 

“Perhaps we could...” he gave a nod at the grand seat in the middle of the room and Bilbo took him by the hand, pulling the King along before reaching the cushioned seat and forcefully manoeuvred him into it. Thorin felt a chuckle bubble in his chest though it quickly emerged as a groan as Bilbo climbed into his lap and hung his legs over the sides.

 

“I'm so glad you listened when I said not to have armrests-” he chirped, shifting until he was sitting right on top of the King's straining cock, wiggling his bum more than needed as he took delight in seeing Thorin's eyes roll and his head thunk back, “-though I'll not be able to stand in here without becoming randy with the memory of what I'm about to do to you.”

 

“ _You_ -”

 

“Oh just look at that!” Bilbo marvelled, his eyes on the blushing bruise he'd left on Thorin's throat, ripping another low sound from Thorin as he leant forward, his hands planted either side of Thorin's dark head, “Perhaps I should leave another?” he teased softly, biting his lip in feigned innocence. That lip was quickly caught between Throin's own and his mouth devoured by a thick tongue. He had absolutely no leverage with his feet hanging and Bilbo could do little more than wriggle and pressed down.

 

“Please, do something-” Thorin choked, his head back again, the column of his throat moving as he swallowed desperately.

 

“I have no- Use your hands, move me,” Bilbo urged, “I'll do the rest!” he assured, pulling at the ties in Thorin's shirt until it was open to his breastbone. Those great, hot hands that Bilbo adored so much gripped and pulled his backside, rocking him back and forth and down against Thorin's solid arousal as he surged his hips up to meet Bilbo's.

 

“Would you speak empty threats to me, hobbit?” Thorin teased, moaning so loud it echoed around the room. Bilbo could not reply as his mouth was attached the other side of the King's throat, sucking hard and mercilessly in order to give him a matching mark. The hands on his rear pulled harder as Thorin's thighs spread apart, his feet gaining purchase in order for him to thrust up with power, the friction almost painful.

 

“By all this is green and sacred, you're _insatiable_. This is too much-” Bilbo huffed, fisting Thorin's hair as he threw his head back and held on.

 

“It's not enough either!” Thorin moaned, “Again, Bilbo,” his name fell from swollen lips and Bilbo answered with a groan, tipping his head back to look at fluttering, dark eyes, “Again!”

 

“As you wish, _my_ King,” he conceded and forced Thorin's head to the side with a strong grip and licked the fresh mark on the juncture of his shoulder. He kissed his Apple and nosed his jaw, smirking when Thorin wailed in protest. He licked along his neck until his was half way along the taut muscle and bit down, sucking as he dug his teeth in, licking at the heat of his skin as the blood rushed to break free. Thorin reacted wildly, shouting his pleasure as though going to war, and arched as tight as bow, gasping broken grunts with great heaves of his chest as he came. Bilbo soothed the painful bloom with kisses and soft licking before pulling back to survey his work. Three vivid red ovals littered the King's skin and the King himself was a panting, sedate mess with a sodden patch in the front of his trousers.

 

Bilbo listened to the small whimpering moans Thorin couldn't keep in with a swell of pride, and in his high state of arousal, ran his finger along the wet fabric where the head of Thorin's cock lay. It jerked him from his floating state and his piercing eyes fixed to Bilbo's face, darting to his lips where he sucked in his fingertip and moaned wantonly at the bitter taste, his eyes drooping as Thorin's dropped a shade.

 

“I cannot even consider my own threats right now, let alone move, as I would take you in my bed,” Thorin hummed, stroking up Bilbo's back until he could grip his hair, “So I will do as you have.”

 

“You needn't-” Bilbo's protests evaporated into a shout as Thorin's burning mouth latched onto his neck, one hand reaching for his hip to move him.

 

“This won't work,” Thorin said, unseating Bilbo with strong arms only to turn him and sit him in the chair, quickly trapping him under his weight as he reversed their positions. His could reach the floor with the ends of his boots and used the leverage to begin thrusting his backside back and forth along Bilbo's raging erection. He gripped the curve of the top of the backrest and rocked fast and hard as Bilbo's hands flew to grab at the fleshy mounds torturing him. Thorin moaned through the electric sensation where his trousers pulled against his sensitive cock but pushed through, his need to see Bilbo crying out and coming under him far to bold to pass off. Bilbo was moaning and rocking up as much as Thorin's weight allowed, biting his lips and staring up into a face curtained by long, thick rails of hair.

 

“Leave your mark,” Bilbo begged, baring his neck. Thorin hummed and dipped his head quickly, sucking where he had begun with furious passion, the feeling rendering Bilbo almost senseless, near weeping with the shocks running through him. It took little more than a thick rolling tongue and light sinking of teeth for the honey-haired hobbit to cry out for Thorin, spilling himself profusely in his trousers. Thorin pulled away slowly and slipped from Bilbo's lap to kneel between his splayed legs, sucking the damp fabric hard while Bilbo steadied the twitching aftershocks. He groaned as salt burst on his tongue and ached for more, for a proper taste around hot flesh though to do so now would surely slaughter his love where he dozed. He smiled softly when a small hand slid into his hair and lay his head on Bilbo's thigh, looking up at the bright smile in his contentment.

 

–

 

“So, I hear the hobbit has chosen a suitor?” Balin mused, the entire company turning as one to stare at him.

 

“He has?” remarked Nori and Balin nodded, “Aye, he has.”

 

“Who?” squeaked Ori.

 

“Toby.”

 

“What?!” roared most of the company, quickly shouting their protests and disbelief.

 

“Shut yer cakeholes!” Dwalin yelled, slamming his chunky fists down for order. The table fell utterly silent, “Pay up, sore losers. All of us are out of pocket now, 'cept Ori and Nori.”

 

“And myself!” piped Balin, smiling into his curling beard, “What is going to be done with the funds, may I ask?” he looked to Nori as he moved around with a pouch open to the falling coins of his comrades. He shrugged when he had done his walk around and sat with a smile.

 

“Gonna have 'is affects brought to Erebor, paid for by the company by way of a congratulatory gift as he'll be needing something of 'is own in 'is new quarters, big as they are, gotta fill the space innit!” he grinned at the murmurings and accusations firing around the table. He held up his hands, “Perhaps I should 'ave said before but it was more fun this way, watching ya all run 'round like idiots tryin' to get ya favourites to win somehow, even though that Toby sabotaged _everythin'_ you tried. Wrong of me but what's done is done. Bilbo is happy, finally, and will be stayin' for good no doubt.”

 

“How have you come to that? That Lakeman is in Dale you clot!” Bofur laughed and a chorus of slurps and chortles sang out.

 

“Aye! And we'd have paid up without the need for this!” Oin added.

 

“I know, but we've not had a good gossip in ages and schemin' has always been fun. Just wanted to give ya a distraction from all this rebuildin' and 'is Majesty's broodin', in me own way o' course,” Nori admitted, stuffing his face with chicken. Every other gave a nod in agreement at the remark of the King.

 

“A good heart in there, who'd have thought?” Dwalin laughed, dodging the chicken leg aimed at his face.

 

“I'd like to meet this Toby,” gushed Ori, a fond smile on his lips as he sketched.

 

“Oh ya have already, all of ya have on account of him going by another name,” Nori said nonchalantly, ignoring the stares for a long time before he looked up, “It's Thorin innit.”

 

The noise that exploded in the room was rammed with excitement and disbelief and joy that their steadfast and stoic ruler had finally, _finally_ done something. Balin shared a fond smile with Nori over the raucous heads of his friends. Nori ducked his head and stuffed the pouch inside his jacket alongside the lists, requests, reports and orders signed with the looping signature of the King.

 

 

 


End file.
